


Not Who I Wanted

by thekingslover



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Soulmates AU, jealous!connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 11:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2545319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingslover/pseuds/thekingslover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At 11:59pm on the eve of his birthday, Connor holds an undeveloped photo in his shaking hands. When he turns 21, the magic photo given to his parents when he was a baby will develop and he’ll see his soulmate for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Who I Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr Coliver sideblog 'monicashipscoliver'. Written around the time of 1x05 so if Connor's mother ever shows up in canon, let's just pretend she hasn't lol. Enjoy!
> 
> The prompt was: Anonymous asked: "could you do a soulmate au where they receive a vision/picture of their soulmate on their 21st bday, and at first connor is all disappointed cuz he wanted some like super suave model guy but when they actually meet it takes less than 10 seconds for him to fall head over heals for oliver and all his adorableness"

At 11:59pm on the eve of his birthday, Connor holds an undeveloped photo in his shaking hands. When he turns 21, the magic photo given to his parents when he was a baby will develop and he’ll see his soulmate for the first time.

The alarm on his cell phone buzzes. He’d set it for midnight by some slim chance he’d forget. He thinks for only a second of turning it off but then color swirls in the photo. Connor forgets everything but the contours of a man’s face.

Connor wanted James Dean. Or Brad Pitt. Or Idris Elba.

Not a guy with coke bottle glasses and a shy smile.

Connor tucks the picture in his drawer and forgets it.

* * *

The next time he sees his mother, she asks to see it. He retrieves the picture from his bedroom drawer and throws it at her without looking.

He can’t miss her expression though, as she sees it for the first time. Her eyes go soft. Her smile is kind, the way a mother looks at a son - the way she looks at _Connor_.

"Just keep it," Connor says. "Or throw it away, I don’t care."

His mother’s fondness tightens into surprise. “What?”

"I don’t want to look at him anymore." _He isn’t who_ _I want._

She doesn’t say anything. She just slides the picture into her purse.

When she leaves, Connor tries to convince himself he feels better about the whole thing.

He’s gone. _Good._

* * *

A week later, Connor receives a package from his mother. It’s a simple gold locket on a plain gold chain. Connor doesn’t have to open it to know he’d see a pair of coke-bottle glasses and a shy smile.

He throws the locket in the trash can.

Then spends all night fishing it back out.

He drops it back into his drawer without ever opening it.

* * *

He likes this bar. There’s always guys here who, like him, want to forget. With enough alcohol and the right company, anything’s possible.

If only for a night.

He’s chatting up a guy he’s never met before. Blonde and buff. Perfect vision. His smile’s as boisterous as the rest of him. He’d probably be a loud fuck. Connor wonders idly as the conversation lulls, who this guy’s soulmate is. Someone big and brash like him, someone he could be rough with. Or the opposite - someone thin and kind and soft. Someone to take care of. Or take care of him.

Connor goes home alone that night. He stares at his drawer for an hour before opening it. He takes out the locket, holds it in his hand.

He doesn’t open it.

* * *

Months go by.

He takes the locket from his drawer. Holds it in his hand.

Never opens it.

* * *

He starts carrying it around with him. To school. To work.

Even to his favorite bar.

He orders his drink and peers around the room, looking for anything interesting. He gave up nightly conquests the minute he hung the locket around his neck. It feels like cheating, even with the picture safely stored.

There’s two men at a table on the other side of the room.

One of them has coke bottle glasses.

_Doesn’t mean anything_ , Connor tells himself, even as his treacherous heart begins racing, thunderous, in his chest.

But then the guy smiles. It’s soft, _shy_.

And being given to some random asshole in a bar.

Connor slides off his stool and storms across the room. He’s halfway when he stops in his tracks, when the haze of jealousy clears just enough for him to have a sobering thought.

The guy he’s with could be his boyfriend - or _shit_ , husband. Not everyone waits for soulmates. If Connor walks over there like he deserves it, he could mess up this guy’s whole life.

And if his soulmate doesn’t want him…

Connor stands frozen, lost.

But then the guy looks up and sees him. His eyes go wide. He reaches into his back pocket and comes back with a wallet. He slides out a picture from the inside.

He leaves that other man behind at the table and brings the picture to Connor. It’s Connor’s face, but he doesn’t ever remember smiling that wide.

"I’m Oliver," the guy says. There’s no wedding ring on his finger.

This close, Connor wonders how he ever thought his soulmate was anything but _gorgeous_. He’s not James Dean, or Brad Pitt, or Idris Elba. He trumps them all.

"Connor."

"It’s nice to meet you." Oliver’s smile may be shy, but it knocks the wind right out of Connor’s lungs. "Finally."

Connor smiles as wide as the picture in Oliver’s hand. “Finally,” he agrees.


End file.
